CHAPTER 3

“How dare you hit me!” Johnson roared, his face twisted with fury. “You filthy rat! You dare challenge me?” His voice boomed across the poolside, dripping with disdain.

The crowd, previously in shock, quickly rallied behind him, their support adding to Johnson's inflated ego.

“Look at this cockroach!” Johnson sneered, pacing around Max like a predator sizing up his prey. “You think you can fight me? You’ve been scurrying in the dirt your whole life!”

Laughter erupted from the crowd. “He’s about to get squashed!” someone shouted.

“Yeah, show him who’s boss, Johnson!” another chimed in.

Johnson flexed his arms dramatically, turning to the crowd. “This rat thinks he’s a lion now, huh?” he spat, pointing at Max. “But all I see is a mangy stray dog, begging for scraps!”

The crowd whooped and hollered, eagerly anticipating the fight.

“You’re nothing but a street mutt,” Johnson continued, his voice brimming with arrogance. “I’ve trained with the best, and you? You’ve been running from garbage collectors your whole life!”

Max stepped forward, his gaze steady, though his heart raced. “You talk too much,” he muttered, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Johnson let out a derisive laugh. “Oh, look! The rat has teeth! Too bad they’re about to get kicked in.”

The spectators roared in approval. Bets were being placed, confidence overwhelmingly favoring Johnson.

“I bet he gets flattened in the first round!” a voice in the crowd yelled. “Max is just a scrawny alley cat in a lion’s den.”

Max clenched his fists, his adrenaline spiking. He wasn’t a stray, and he wasn’t about to roll over.

“Come on then!” Johnson bellowed, charging at him like a bull. He swung wide, confident of an easy hit, but Max sidestepped swiftly, the larger boy stumbling forward.

“He dodged!” someone gasped from the sidelines.

Johnson spun around, furious. “Just like a rat! Always running!” he spat, lunging again.

This time, Max was ready. He ducked and delivered a sharp jab to Johnson’s ribs. The taller boy gasped, doubling over slightly.

“He’s fighting back!” another spectator exclaimed, their tone switching from amusement to disbelief.

“Must be rat instincts kicking in!” Johnson wheezed, straightening up, but his swagger was faltering.

Max pressed on, delivering a solid punch to Johnson’s jaw. The crowd fell into stunned silence as Johnson staggered, his feet unsteady.

“Did... did the rat just knock him down?” someone whispered, the disbelief tangible.

Johnson hit the ground with a thud, his once-proud face now a mask of shock. Max stood over him, breathing heavily, locking eyes with his fallen opponent.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Then, the silence was broken.

“Max won?” someone shouted. “No way!”

“I can’t believe it! The street dog took down the lion!”

Before Max could fully process the victory, Amanda stormed forward, her eyes blazing. In her hand, a glass bottle glinted menacingly.

“Get off him!” she screeched, smashing the bottle against Max’s head.

The world blurred. Pain exploded in his skull as Max staggered backward, disoriented.

Johnson, having recovered slightly, sneered as he scrambled to his feet. “Now, we finish this, rat.”

He gestured to his friends, who moved forward, their faces twisted in cruel delight. “Let’s teach this stray a lesson.”

They grabbed Max, dragging him toward the pool. The crowd, now fully back on Johnson’s side, roared with laughter.

“Look at him squirm!” someone jeered. “Like a fish out of water.”

“More like a rat in a trap,” another shouted as they lifted Max and threw him into the pool.

The cold water shocked his system as Max hit the surface. He surfaced, gasping for air, drenched and humiliated. Laughter rang out from all sides.

“There’s your hero!” Johnson mocked, standing by the pool’s edge. “Drowning like the rat he is.”

Amanda crossed her arms, a sneer playing on her lips. “You should’ve known better, Max. You’re just a stray dog, trying to play with wolves.”

“Amanda,” Max choked, swimming to the edge. “He’s not what you think. He’s... he’s using you.”

“Oh, please,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re pathetic. Always whining, always causing problems. Grow up, Max.”

Johnson walked up to her, smirking. “Come on, babe. This loser isn’t worth your time.” With that, he pulled Amanda into a deep kiss, making sure Max saw every second.

“See this?” Johnson called out, grinning at Max over Amanda’s shoulder. “She’s mine now, rat. You can’t compete with a king.”

Max’s chest tightened as he watched Amanda slide into Johnson’s car, a content smile on her face. Johnson gave Max one last victorious smirk before driving off, leaving him in the water, a shell of his former self.

The crowd slowly dispersed, still mocking him. “Guess the rat can’t swim either,” someone laughed.

As the last of them left, Peter rushed over, his face filled with concern. “Max! What the hell happened?”

Peter helped pull Max out of the pool, wrapping his jacket around him. “Let’s get out of here, man.”

They walked away in silence, Max drenched and broken.

“I trusted her, Peter,” Max muttered, his voice shaking. “I did everything for her, and she... she chose him.”

Peter sighed, leading him toward a nearby bar. “She’s not worth it, man. Let’s just drink.”

At the bar, Max downed his drink quickly, his thoughts spinning. “She treated me like trash... like I was nothing.”

Peter shook his head. “You’re better off without her.”

Max stumbled to the bathroom, his mind clouded with alcohol. Just as he reached the door, a beautiful woman crashed into his arms, her voice trembling.

“Help me!” she gasped, her eyes wild with fear.

Voices echoed outside. They were after her.